


Irking the bereaved

by Sweety_Mutant



Series: Heartbreaking AUs [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: 3x08, Alternate Universe, Angst, Episode Related, F/M, Fighting, True Love, XXVI
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweety_Mutant/pseuds/Sweety_Mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Woodes Rogers hit him with too much strength.<br/>Maybe he broke his neck when the carriage fell.<br/>Who knew? Life is so fleeting...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irking the bereaved

**Author's Note:**

> I am really really sorry for this! I wrote it on the train ride home, because episode XXVI was perfect. TT_TT  
> Of course, I do not own Black Sails. It's better that way.

 

            Anne stopped dead in her tracks. Jack was laying amidst the wreckage, his body arched in an unnatural position and blood staining his clothes.

 

She hesitated. Time did not dare to pass. One step, two. She shed her black mask, went in what was left of the carriage, and straddled Jack’s body. He did not move.

She put a hand on his chest, the other at his neck. She felt nothing. She pressed harder, bruising the skin and listening for a breath. Nothing.

Her bottom lip quivered, and she lunged forward, devouring Jack’s still warm lips. She took his body, still restrained, in her arms, yanking, kissing. He was like a puppet of clay in her arms, his eyes rolled back in eternal slumber.

For long seconds she kissed him. Tears did not yet fall from her eyes, and, covered in his blood, she clung to him.

 

Vane knew the urgency of the situation. So did Flint. Yet, both of them could only watch as Anne finally broke, sobbing uncontrollably into the cold crook of Jack’s neck. The world around her had stopped, and they allowed it. The loss weighted on them too.

 

Not far away from them, a shape moved in the grass. Crawling, groaning. His vision clouded by pain, Woodes Rogers saw the two pirates standing still. He heard the sobs. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. One down. He took the first weapon he found, some wooden club, and got up.

Yet, he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Vane and Flint looking at him, both too calm.

They took a step backwards, and from the carriage emerged Anne Bonny.

Her face was as red as her hair, smeared with blood. Yet, her eyes were colder than hell’s ninth circle, and she kept him prisoner with her glare.

 

In an instant she was on him, and with her bare hands, she threw him on the floor. Rogers could only scream as she tore him apart. She screamed too, heartbroken, furious. She bit his lips, tearing them from his body. She punched his neck, his chest, until he was vomiting blood. She put a hand in his mouth and another on his face, fingers digging into his orbits. Rogers prayed for a quick death. She broke his jaw. Punched his skull. Blood was splattered all over the sandy floor. Anne was a red demon of grief, and she returned slowly to the carriage.

 

Her fingers still dripping gore and blood, she combed Jack’s hair. She put his clothes in place, whispering mad nothings about love and revenge in his ears.

She could not care less about the war now. Ignoring Flint and Vane. Ignoring the cache in Billy’s arms, she climbed on her horse.

 

“Wait for me… Jack… Wait. I’ll be right back… _No more than a few hours. Promise_.” She rode off into the distance.

Nassau. The English. Anyone on her path. _Max_. They would all pay.

In a few hours, she would be back besides him. The sea would be tainted red, the street silent as death.

In a few hours, pierced by shots and fuelled by love, she would sleep besides him, in the wreckage.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you don't hate me for writing this! Believe me, Rackham is my baby, I love him... and it hurt me so much to have written this... TT_TT  
> If you want to kill me, it's the queue on the left, If you want to leave me a comment, it's on the right.


End file.
